


Threat

by Artistic_Fuss



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: (so named bookstore verse), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-19 13:28:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20658011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artistic_Fuss/pseuds/Artistic_Fuss
Summary: Someone leaves a threat to Duke Luca Abele on his desk, who put it there and where does it lead?Written for ferociouskitten.





	Threat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ferociouskitten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ferociouskitten/gifts).

Word reaches Dunwall too late. Far too late for Corvo’s liking, but then, to be to Corvo’s liking word would have reached Dunwall before the act had even happened. Emily finds it funny, which, in its way it is. Unfortunately, however, neither of them can take this lightly. As much as they would love to, as much as they would enjoy watching an assassin end the rein of Duke Luca Abele. There is an obligation to them both to investigate the threat. See to its integrity. Duke Luca insists to them through letters that no one would wish him dead, let alone enough so to threaten his very life. He does admit to some unsavoury business going on his Karnaca, swears that he has Officers and his head scientific teams on it. They are searching through everything and everywhere he assures them. Asks them not to come. In case they are in danger as well, so he claims. Corvo does not believe him and neither does Emily. They know enough of what he is doing in Karnaca, what he is doing to his continent, to know, many want him dead. They know and understand that there is a risk to them, risk that Emily trusts Corvo to handle with ease. As he always has. Still, he tells her that Alexi must come along. 

Corvo has all the information he has loaded onto their ship before they make for the sea. He will work on the way. 

They have been sent a silver graph of the threat as it was found. Corvo holds the photo up to the light of his cabin and comes to the same conclusion every time he does. The note is stabbed through deep into the wood of Abele’s desk by a whaling blade. This is no casual assassin’s threat. This is nothing that a maid or Officer would have access to. Nothing that someone in the Duke’s staff could do. Corvo hates to sound cliche and stereotypical of a paranoid Gristolian, but in this case, he has to. All signs are in front of him. All signs that he needs personally at least. This note was not left by an amateur. Amateurs do not have original Whaler blades. They do not know exactly how to put their words onto a piece of wrinkled paper to send shivers down their targets’ spines. No amateur does, but Whalers do. Ex-Whalers of course, by now he is sure. Daud, after all, has not been seen anywhere since the days prior to Emily’s coronation. Even then, he was only a flash of a blood-red coat and a pale rose resting against the grave of Empress Jessamine Kaldwin. 

And yet, he is no less certain that somewhere in this mix he will be lead back to the scar-faced assassin and his men. Corvo does question whether Daud is the center of this threat, however. 

Corvo combs through names and leads and finds exactly zero familiar names. Many of Duke Luca’s scientists are unfamiliar to him even. He, of course, recognizes Kirin Jindosh, and Brenna Ashworth, but the others he has not so much as heard the surnames of. Dr. William Hall? Lavina Milani? The pair are the coroners of each body that appears linked to something wrong, something sketchy. They will be looked into extensively. Lavina particularly catches his attention. Though not for the reason of him believing her linked to the bodies, or the threat even. She has reports made by officers about her, threats. Nothing as big as threatening the Duke, but as he digs deeper into what he has on her he finds that she has expressed distaste for Luca. As has Dr. Hall. Corvo is unsurprised but files those complaints away for further investigation. He must look into every little thing after all. If only to keep a reputation he has gained over his years as Lord Protector. Neither of the coroners has had any crime reported. Well, nothing Corvo would count. Swearing at a Watch Officer is, surprisingly, not a crime. No matter how colourfully the words came out. (Pointing a scalpel you hold in your hand, also, does not count. They are coroners after all.) 

When the ship makes dock in Karanca after its voyage, Corvo is able to get his hands on more information, more material. He is able to see the knife in person finally and feel the weight in his hands. Drag his thumb over the divets in the Whaling blade. Holding it only solidifies his belief that it came from a Whaler. It is in near perfect condition, the same as any other Whaling Blade he has had the pleasure of coming across in his time. The note is not in Daud’s writing. Corvo was not expecting it to be. He does not know the writing, but it is untrained. The one who wrote it does not have a formal education. Nor is the writing like that of a Karnacan. The person was not born or at least, not raised in Karnaca. 

Duke Luca Abele appears Corvo would not say unconcerned, but he would say that the Duke appears unaffected by the threat. If not before Corvo’s arrival, then at least after it. 

Emily and Corvo are set up in a spare suite of the palace. It feels uncannily as if it is or was touched by Void. Not specifically the Outsider himself, but the Void. Corvo finds it hard to sleep there. The Void itches in his skull until he jolts awake and finds himself in an old familiar cold. Only, the place does not appear to him as the Void. Not at first. He wanders the palace through the fade and follows the traces of where the seams of the worlds tore open. 

The seams lead him to the place the note was left. The Whaling Blade shivering and shaking in only the way the Void can make things move. He sees no one. Not at first, not that night. But the next he notices the shadows. He feels the mark of someone he does not know. He feels it pull and shift through the world as if the being is moving through water. The image of a Red Shark comes to mind. He cannot place why. But the red, that shade of red he can place. In one flash of the Red Shark image, he knows the red. That red matches Daud. It is the shade he has forever associated with the old Knife Of Dunwall. Still. This is not Daud. He knows that as a fact. 

When awake he follows the path in his dreams. The Marked left no mark. Came in and left from a window in the ceiling and not once slipped on the wet metal of the rails. Then, went to the sea. The trail just dies above the water. Not close enough to suggest the Marked swam, but high enough to suggest they grasped something. Something tall. 

Corvo heads for the docks. Asking the workers for descriptions of ships. Particularly ships with masts. Many look away from him, they do not want to speak of the ship. He asks if it is still around. They do not know. It comes and goes. The Captain does not pay to be in port. She scares them too deeply. So they have no record of when or where she docked. A few, the brave ones tell him they may be able to find someone from the ship in a tavern. But following those leads bring up nothing. No ship name.

While there, something does catch his attention. Jaime. That is the man’s name. He is Gristolian, annoyingly so. The man is too drunk to recognize Corvo, or perhaps he has been so out of the loop of politics he does not realize Corvo is still in a position of power. Whatever his reasoning, he shares with Corvo a drunken worry that his friends keep trying to turn him away from. 

Never the less Jaime persists. 

He shares with Corvo his paranoia of a bookshop down by a far side dock. Jaime’s friends insist that the poor old man living there needs no one just bursting into his shop. Surely doing that would give him a heart attack. And Jaime continues, tells Corvo that the man, Carlo Demorto, he spits the name out quickly as he talks. Almost like saying it summons him. He rambles to Corvo about how strongly he believes this man is no sailor, no simple old whaler, but a Whaler. He makes an exaggerated motion that causes his friends to sigh as he says Whaler the second time, trying hard to imply the Whalers of Dunwall. Then he corrects himself with another swig of rum. Carlo’s not a Whaler, but The Whaler. Daud. He shouts as the name comes back to his far from sober mind. Daud, he continues, that bookstore owner, he swears on the Empress, more proof he has no clue who he is speaking with, that the man is Daud. 

Corvo returns to the palace that night, a drink in him with the persistence of Jaime, unsure if he believes the man’s speculation. For one thing, why would Daud open a bookshop? On another, how had he not been arrested or taken by Overseers? But can he really afford to ignore it at this time? The one who left the note was Marked and left on a ship. Who better to know what could be happening than the old Knife Of Dunwall, the Wolf of Man himself, Daud? He always knew so much. Corvo cannot deny that fact. Daud knew what was happening always, he was ahead of the guard, the overseers, the other gangs. And Corvo doubts that if Daud is around, that he could leave something this big alone. 

In the night he returns to the Void, the Outsider smiling at him, eyes looking deeper than usual. For once, he does not speak and the world moves around Corvo, placing him somewhere he has never seen, but with people, he has seen silver graphs of. Before him stands Lavinia Milani and Dr. William Hall. The doctor is crotched in front of some sort of chair, someone, long dead, strapped in. He is fiddling with tubes from the chair, when he speaks it is consumed by the Void. The same happens with Miss. Milani’s voice. The Void’s way of telling him he is focused on the wrong part of the image. So Corvo moves on as the pair get caught in the loop of the Void. 

He looks around the room they are in.

The door is open, but he cannot see passed it, it leads to inky blackness and whales. But looking up behind Dr. Hall reveals what the Void is showing him. Marked into the wall in what Corvo hopes is paint, but believes is blood, is a symbol. A series of lines he may have seen vaguely in passing. It means nothing to him then. 

In the morning, however. It means so much. Miss. Malani has sent papers to the palace for him, and there in clear view on many sheets is that mark. She calls it the mark of the Eyeless. Her report tells him it is a suspected gang linked to the Void, the report ends suddenly and is hastily signed off by Dr. Hall. The ink of his pen dragging along to the edge and possibly beyond. Corvo inquires about these Eyeless with the Officers of Karnaca, they tell him they are nothing. A members-only tavern, nothing more. 

He hears that too often from the Officers. Nothing more. 

The murders? Blood drained bodies? Bloodflies, nothing more.

Unregistered ships in the harbour are passing by and nothing more. 

Corvo despises them. They leave him with no help and no leads. He has no way of directly contacting Miss. Malani, as she is constantly busy with her own work. His only point of hope is Jaime’s suspicions, and even that is a terrible lead. Still, Corvo makes the decision that he will follow it. After all, what harm could possibly come from taking a visit to an odd bookshop?

The Karnaca sun beats down on him as he walks down the shore side street. Small businesses and smaller houses lining the walkways. The rails do not go here, Corvo has a feeling it is because no one in the area wanted it here. Everything seems so calm and old. He almost recognizes the stones under his boots. Almost. An elderly lady sits outside on her porch with a steaming cup in her hands, and Corvo feels like her eyes are filled with warning. For what he is not sure. Perhaps warning about invading into their quiet neighbourhood. He hopes that is all the warning is. But as he reaches for the handle of the bookshop with no name and a large window, exactly as Jaime described she calls out to him. 

“He’s closed at the moment, darling! Why not come join me for a cup?” There is no sign on the door saying the shop is closed, nor open. 

Corvo gives her a thankful wave and denies her offer. “Do you know when he will be back Ma’am? I, unfortunately, I do not have time to sit for tea.” 

She gives him a warm smile and stands from her seat to lean over the edge of her railing to get a closer look at him, and her smile grows. “Oh, forgive me, Lord Attano! I had no idea you would be coming down this way!” She wanders down her stairs and over to him, not once giving a bow. Corvo is tickled by her. She pulls a key from her apron and fumbles with the shop door. “Now, Demorto will be back in only a moment if he isn’t in already. Mittens will keep a good eye on you, darling.” 

She shoos Corvo into the shop and hobbles back to her porch and into her home. 

The door swings closed with a jingle behind Corvo and he cannot believe all that he is seeing. The shop has as many if not more books than the Royal Library in Dunwall Tower. He does not have even enough time to wander into an aisle when he hears a loud yowl. The sound comes from above him, and as his eyes travel up, they pass over a number of odd artifacts and land on a massive cat. Black as pitch with eyes a near gold, tail twitching down the side of a shelf. 

“You must be Mittens….” He says the animal’s name and the growls turn to purrs. The cat’s paws reach down onto a shelf and soon she is level with Corvo’s head, nuzzling into his face. This is certainly Mittens. Corvo raises a hand to scratch her behind the ear and before he knows it she is attempting to climb onto his shoulders. A little too big to ride on his shoulders Corvo ends up with a panther in his arms with her front paws over her shoulders and her head rubbing against his. With the panther refusing to leave his arms now, Corvo walks around the shop carrying her like he used to carry Emily when she was just a little younger. 

Shelves with gaps do not truly have empty space. Where there would be empty space is filled by artifacts. Bones, plants, weapons. Things Corvo can only think must have come from Pandysia of all places. Not many people went to Pandysia, let alone returned. Or had the funds to pay for someone to bring them back. Then he turns another corner and comes face to face with a section that makes his heart stop. 

These are banded books. Books on the Void. On Pandysia. Sacrilege. Spaces that need filling are filled. Filled by Bone Charms and Runes. He can feel them pulse with the power of the Void. No simple old Sailor would have these so casually sitting there. No one but Daud would be capable of keeping something like this out of the hands of the Abbey. Mittens leaves his arms finally, hopping up onto the shelf of sacrilege and a final turn has Corvo face to face with more than enough proof that this Carlo Demorto is in fact The Knife Of Dunwall. 

There above the doorway to the backroom, and likely Daud’s home is the very Whaling blade Daud used back in Dunwall. 

It was the most distinct of the blades. The blade itself carved with runes and words roughly translated through Pandysian and back. The handle is stained by Whale blood and ink of the deep-sea squids. 

And the shop door opens behind him. He does not need to turn to know who will be behind him. And the man at the door does not need him to turn to know who he is. 

“Hello, Corvo.” The voice is exactly as he remembers it. Rough and tired, only with a little more age to it. “You’re here about the note I take it? Or the Eyeless?” 

So the Eyeless are important to something. 

“I think it would be best if we sat down and discussed this. There is a lot to go over.” Daud steps closer to him as Corvo turns and when he reaches him he rests a hand on the taller man’s shoulder. “Lavinia will be over in the evening if I can steal you away for so long Royal Protector.” His hand leaves Corvo’s shoulder and he steps into the backroom, Mittens hopping down once more and following him. 

“You knew I was coming.”

“Of course I did,” Daud replies, setting his furnace a lite and resting a kettle on top of it. “I have reason to believe that any path you followed would lead you here.”


End file.
